The Lonely Watches of the Night
by Aranel of Athena
Summary: Frodo is struggling after the destruction of The Ring. Maybe a conversation with a friend might help.


A soft breeze caught the open curtains that hung in the window. The hour was late enough that all who had been out celebrating the fall of Mordor and the liberation of Middle Earth were in bed and resting before another busy day working on the restoration of the city. It was well after midnight, none but the night watch were awake. The light from the window moved along the floor and across the bed moving in sync with the moon. Now, that light fell across Frodo's face as he slept fitfully.  
As the breeze passed through the window and touched Frodo's face, he recoiled and awoke with a small cry. With shaking hands, he reached out blindly before realizing where he was, safe in Minas Tirith. A second breeze came through the window to brush against his face and he tried to dispel thoughts of the cold, harsh winds he and Sam had experienced in Mordor. As he lay back down again, Frodo couldn't help but feel quite lonely, despite having spent months in one of the most desolate places in Middle Earth, at least he had always had Sam's comforting presence nearby. Since reuniting with The Fellowship at The White City, he had been given his own room to sleep in. As nice as it was, Frodo found himself thinking that this human bed was too large for a hobbit to feel comfortable in, it was too easy to get lost, and didn't feel as secure as he had remembered beds feeling. Perhaps it's too soft, he wondered. After sleeping on the ground maybe it was too hard for him to rest on a mattress. After rolling over a few times, the hobbit clambered off the bed and made his way out of his chamber.

The corridor outside of his room was long, stone, and dimly lit with torches. However, Frodo knew that if he passed enough of those torches he would come out by a balcony, and so, after wrapping a cloak around himself, the tired hobbit made his way past several torches, and the bedchambers that belonged to Merry, Pippin, and Sam. Gimli and Legolas were also housed in this wing, but Frodo wasn't sure where. The stone floor felt oddly cold beneath his feet. Eventually, he got to his destination. The balcony that faced away from Mordor. Frodo couldn't help but feel that Aragorn had had a hand in making sure he was placed in this wing. The balcony edge was almost too tall for him, he was able to rest his chin on the wall lie structure, and stare out, though looking down was a bit of a struggle.

From his vantage point, he was able to as least see the lower levels of The White City, which were under repair from the Battle of the Pelennor Fields, not to mention damage that Minas Tirith had weathered over the last several years. For the most part, the city was dark, save for torches that were always lit. Though there were several houses and areas that were still lit, from what Frodo could see. Perhaps people we still up celebrating the fall of Sauron. From what Pippin and Merry had told him, the last several weeks had been a mix of working by day on messages, repairs, and getting on with life, with the evenings and nights filled with celebration. The lighted dwellings were too far away for Frodo to hear anything, when he had fallen asleep 3 or 4 hours ago, he had done so to the sounds of merrymaking. Now, the hobbit stared out, and could only hear the wind and the call of a few birds, one, a small songbird perched nearby on the wall, singing its night song.

Frodo listened with rapt attention. There had been no songbirds in Mordor. Even the bird sounded happy, as if it knew evil had been vanquished. Frodo couldn't help but feel envious of the creature, happy and enjoying its own song. As the bird finished and flew away, Frodo's chest ached, and he was reminded once again of his loneliness. The burden he had felt in his heart when he awoke became heavier still. The little hobbit suddenly felt tears pushing against his eyelids and with a sniffle he turned his back on the view and curled up with his back to the wall and let himself cry. Quietly though, so he wouldn't bother anyone. Back when he had been traveling to dispose of The Ring, a small part of him hoped, he would feel unburdened when it finally got destroyed. Now, he just felt heavier, back then he had had one goal, to destroy The Ring, and now, he wasn't sure what he would do. And one part, one very small, secret part that he shared with no one, the part of him that had taken a hold and stopped him from destroying The Ring wished that he had it again. The One Ring. He didn't know why, he just wished that he could hold it, put it back on, have it. That cursed object that had caused him all this grief. The logical part of him knew that this was ridiculous, The Ring was evil, and he was so much better off without it. He could think clearer for one, something he had noticed as soon as it had been unmade.

Frodo rubbed at his eyes and wished, not for the first time that none of this had happened, at that the most adventurous thing that ever happened to him was a trip to Rivendell, without being chased by Black Riders of course. His hand, where his finger had been was aching now, and his shoulder felt all the colder. The hobbit buried his face in his cloak. It was too much. He had succeeded, and yet he felt so miserable and weak.

A hand on his shoulder startled Frodo from his misery. He looked up into a concerned face, the owner of the hand knelt down to be more on a level with his tear-stained face.

"Frodo?" Aragorn asked, "What is wrong, what ails you?" Frodo opened his mouth but found that he could not answer.

"Oh Aragorn." He murmured miserably, and suddenly reached out and wrapped his arms around the man. It was childish, more like something Pippin would do, but Frodo didn't care at that second. If the newly crowned king was surprised, he didn't show it. The man returned the hug to the aggrieved hobbit just as fiercely as the embrace had been given.

They sat like that for a moment while Frodo struggled to regain his composure. Eventually, he pulled away. They sat silently for a few minutes, looking at the sky. Aragorn was waiting for Frodo, and Frodo didn't want to say anything. Another songbird had begun singing nearby, not in sight, but Frodo could hear it. The hobbit and man listened intently to the song, with Frodo picking at the dirt on the stone floor and staring down, while next to him Aragorn sat and watched him patiently. At last the songbird had finished and they sat in silence, which was not at all comforting, and a small part of Frodo debated about making a getaway. But the wiser part of him acknowledged that Aragorn deserved some explanation, and that he was a king, and should be treated with respect.

"I'm sorry if I'm bothering you." He mumbled at last apologetically. Aragorn shook his head,

"Not at all, Frodo, if anything, I should be apologizing for bothering you, seeing as you were here first."

Frodo shook his head, but wasn't sure exactly what to say, "why are you up at this hour? He asked the man.

"I find walking helpful when thinking," Aragorn responded, "What is wrong, Frodo? Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"I don't think so." But then he began to explain, anything to fill up the horrible silence of the night. "I feel a great sadness, but I am not totally sure why. I should be overjoyed at all that has happened, but I am not. I feel lonely and cold, like there is still a burden I carry, and I cannot get rid of it. And," here he felt a wash of shame, "I fear that some part of me still wants it. To hold it again. And that is terrible and shameful." The hobbit looked up earnestly into the man's face. "I am tired, Aragorn, so tired in spirit…I fear that I may never find joy again." He whispered.

Aragorn didn't say anything immediately, and Frodo wandered if he should have said anything at all. Just as he began contemplating leaving again Aragorn spoke,

"What you did Frodo, was brave. To take The Ring to Mordor and suffer the consequences of its effects, was noble, and you know this. Right now you are in grief, and that is alright, it is understandable and nothing to be ashamed of. The Ring was very powerful, and it is understandable that you are suffering from its evil effects." he said earnestly.

"But what should I do?" asked Frodo.

"For now, I would say, grieve. No one here expects you to go back to who you were before this quest. Allow yourself to feel sad and acknowledge that it is alright to feel grief over what has befallen you. With time, you will feel less in grief, and then you can begin to repair your life."

"Will I stop feeling sad?" Frodo asked hopefully. Aragorn looked grieved.

"I don't think you will ever truly heal from this, Frodo. It may be too great a hurt. But that doesn't mean you should give up on a future. There is much to do and see yet in this life."

"Like what?" Frodo asked, once again miserable.

"To see The Shire again for one. To see Sam marry Rosie, watch Pippin grow up, to sit and talk of maps and books with Merry. Do not despair now you have completed your task Frodo. Perhaps, grief may overtake you one day, but there is much to see and do before then."

"But what point is there in seeing and doing if I don't enjoy it?" Frodo asked.

"Tell me that seeing and doing anything I just mentioned wouldn't make you happy for even a second."

Frodo considered this. Of course he would be happy if Sam married Rosie, he had always thought they would make a lovely couple from the beginning. And of course, seeing Pippin come of age would be nice, after all both of them had been through. And once again reading and talking with Merry over cups of tea would be nice, Merry who had helped him that fateful day when he had inherited Bag End and the ring. He smiled now remembering the chaos of that day. And now thinking of his dear friend he realized that they, after going through all of this, risking everything for him, would be saddened if he were unable to share happy moments with them in return.

"I would feel happy doing those things, I suppose." He said slowly. He had been looking at the ground while considering this. Now he looked up at Aragorn. "You are right, of course." Aragorn smiled down at him.

"Right now, however, I still feel burdened."

"Then let me sit and feel burdened alongside you."

They sat in silence, grieving together all the bad that had happened. The night continued to be silent.

"Thank you," Frodo said at last.

"Always, my friend." The king responded.

Frodo stood up and stretched, yawning,

"Oh, and Aragorn?"

"Yes?"

"How do you know Sam loves Rosie?"

"Pippin told me, of course."

"Naturally." Frodo said, and chuckled.


End file.
